The Black Lace Stockings
by hughville
Summary: House notices that Cameron is wearing black lace stockings and decides to investigate.


**A/N: This one was written for a challenge at the Live Journal community, hc_smutathon. Not my usual thing, but it was fun to step out of the box a bit. I have been working on first person POV.**

My team is seated around the table in the conference room when I limp in. I wish I could say that I stride in forcefully and take command of the room but I don't. I limp in, leaning heavily on my cane. At least it's a bitchin' cane with stylized flames leaping up from the base. If you gotta walk with a cane, this is the cane to have. Chase and Foreman barely glance at me. Figures. They like to pretend they aren't scared shitless of me. I know better. They try to stand up to me but all I have to do is say something and they make poopy in their pants which is an endless source of amusement to me. Sometimes I say things just to scare the shit out of them; takes my mind off the pain. The only person to look at me is Cameron. She's always looking me in the eye. Searching for God knows what. I always find myself ensnared by her eyes. Sometimes they're blue, sometimes green, or sometimes blue-green; depends on her mood. Today they're almost emerald green. She's curious. She wants to know where I've been. Not that I have any intention of telling her. She's only interested because I'm a wounded puppy she wants to nurse back to health. If it weren't for my fucking leg, she wouldn't give me a second look. Women like her do not look at men like me the way she does without an ulterior motive. And my little Florence Nightingale always has an ulterior motive where I'm concerned.

"Morning," I chirp happily, tossing my backpack into my office in the general direction of my chair. It lands with a dull thud on the floor. I look at it briefly and shrug. Cameron will pick it up later. She always does.

"It's afternoon," Foreman says sullenly. Always a ray of sunshine is my little homie. I smirk and head toward the coffee. Cameron meets me at the counter and her delicate perfume tickles my nose. I will not look at her. I will focus on the coffee and not look at her clear skin and shiny hair. I will not sneak a peek down her blouse. She's wearing a black lace bra. I can just see the edge of the strap beneath her shirt. Her breasts swell slightly. I like to tease her about her small breasts. Truth be told, I think she has a perfect body. Her breasts and ass are the perfect size. I imagine one of her breasts or one ass cheek would fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. I frown at her and take the cup she is holding out to me. She looks up at me with that wide-eyed look she's always giving me. The one that makes my dick twitch. Damn her. Gripping my cane more tightly, I move away from her, her damn perfume, her damn perfect body and her damn shiny hair that smells like coconuts.

Sinking down in a chair, I sip my coffee. We begin the DDX on our latest lying patient and I send Chase and Foreman off to run what will ultimately be a bunch of useless tests. At least it gets them out of my hair for awhile.

Cameron moves over to her desk and bends over to pick up her laptop. I lean back and tilt my head for a better view. I notice she is wearing sheer black stockings, sexy black pumps and a black skirt. The stockings have caught my attention. She sits down and opens her laptop. As she begins to work, she crosses her legs and the skirt hitches up. I get a nice view of firm muscled thigh in sheer black silk. I prop my feet up and get comfortable. She's oblivious, so this should be fun. She shifts again and I see that the skirt has a slit in it. The slit parts and reveals the lacy tops of her stockings and garters. Fuck me; she's wearing a garter belt. My lobby art is wearing black lace-topped stockings and a garter belt. That and the black lace bra are my undoing. I gotta get up and go over to see what kind of panties she's wearing.

She looks shocked when I take her hand, lead her into my office and close all the blinds.

"House," she breathes when I run my hand up her leg under her skirt.

"What?" I ask.

"What are you doing?" she asks in a husky voice that makes my dick twitch again.

Like she doesn't know. My hand encounters the lacy top of her stockings and the silky garters holding them up. Then I encounter firm smooth skin. Holy fuck. I have to stop to get control of my breathing. Who knew her skin would be so soft? I skim the silken curve of her ass and smile. She's wearing a thong. Oh yeah. I allow my fingers to slip around her waist and down between her legs. She's wet. My smile widens. I pull my hand out from beneath her skirt and wrap my arm around her waist. Pulling her close, I lean in. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips part. It hits me suddenly that she wants this. She wants me to kiss her. So I do. Her hands slide up my back as my mouth slants across hers. Her tongue teases my lips and I open my mouth. Everything fades away except her. The way she feels, tastes and smells. I've never experienced this before. It's a little scary and kind of exciting too. Pulling back, I look at her. Her eyes are a smoky blue and she looks like she wants to fuck me senseless. Maybe she doesn't see me as a wounded puppy. Maybe there's something here worth exploring. One thing is for damn sure. I'm not fucking her in this office. I'm taking her back to my place and getting a good look at her thong and garter before I take them off. Then I'll find out if her breasts and ass cheeks really do fit in the palms of my hands.

* * *

Normally I'd strip her clothes off, toss her on the bed and fuck her. I think I've lost my mind. We're in my bedroom and I'm slowly removing her clothes, kissing her skin as it's revealed. I have officially become Wilson. But her skin is so fucking soft and she is making the most incredible noises. She's actually purring like a contented kitten. Her mouth is soft and her hands are gentle as she undresses me. My dick is so hard it hurts. But I don't want this to end. I slide her bra off and drop it on the floor. Jesus on the cross. Her breasts are perfect and they do fit perfectly in the palms of my hands. I kiss her very gently. Just call me James Wilson. It's like her body was made just for me. She fits perfectly beneath me. My hands are shaking as I fumble with the fucking condom. She takes it from me and kisses my neck as she rolls it on me. I unhook her stockings and roll them down her legs. The garter slides off next followed by the thong. Reaching around her, I cup her ass. Yep, she's made for me. Damn.

She pushes me back and I look up at her. Smiling down at me, she moves over me. Her eyes are that smoky blue. Then all coherent thought is gone because she is sliding down on me and moving and ohhhhh fuck!

A loud annoying ringing wakes me up. Cameron is curled up next to me, sleeping. It's dark outside. I grab my cell phone and look at the caller ID. Wilson. I roll my eyes.

"What?" I growl softly into the phone so I don't wake Cameron.

"What are you doing?" he squeals. He always squeals like this when Cuddy has him by the balls because I've disappeared or done something to annoy her. He squeals like this a lot now that I think of it.

"Sleeping."

"Why are you sleeping?"

"I fucked Cameron and now I'm tired." He can be so dense sometimes.

"WHAT?"

I hold the phone away from my ear since I enjoy being able to hear. When he stops screeching like a howler monkey on crack, I put the phone back to my ear.

"You finished?" I ask.

"Please tell me you haven't slept with Cameron," he begs.

"Well, I'm obviously not sleeping now," I tell him. "Bye, Wilson."

I snap my phone shut. Pulling Cameron closer, I close my eyes. Wilson will be arriving soon but I don't care. I plan to make love to Cameron again. I plan to date her. I may even ask her to move in. I can't wait to see Wilson's face when he finds out about that. I smile and drift off to sleep again.

**The End.**


End file.
